


Twenty Times

by JustBeMe13



Category: One Piece
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:47:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 36
Words: 3,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25451896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustBeMe13/pseuds/JustBeMe13
Summary: One Word, Two Word Prompts.Make me a prompt of one or two words and I'll write something short on it.Requests are open! I need prompts guys!
Relationships: Roronoa Zoro/Vinsmoke Sanji
Comments: 13
Kudos: 90





	1. Those Words

**Author's Note:**

> I have twenty right now, thus the title. 
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Author-chan

His hand in his hair is gentle, not rough like he’s used to with other people. His movements are simple, elegant, though not refined. As his back arches with pleasure, he lets out the words he has kept in for so long they were almost dying on his tongue. His movements halt, and there’s surprise in his eyes, but most of all love. Love that soars through the sky and crashes back into them with fiery passion. He can only smile and kiss the man that he loves so deeply it hurts.


	2. Love Letters

He finds them everywhere in the house. All pink and written badly in handwriting he knows all too well. It sweet, really. Sweet and so terribly irritating. Whose gonna clean it up when he gets done? Not him, that’s for sure. He smiles as he finds another one under the couch. It’s ripped up and trashed, like it was no good. He reads it with a grin, the sappy love words on it making his heart soar.


	3. Tears

They spill over silky smooth cheeks. He’s not used to seeing them, not used to being the cause of them. But they’re not tears of sadness. They’re tears of happiness. They trail streaks through his blushing flesh and he has the urge to lick them off. So he does. The salty tang attacks his tongue, and the flesh beneath it curves up into a smile. Perhaps he’ll make some more, just to taste them again.


	4. Scratch Me

His nails bite into his skin, those well-manicured nails with no sharp edges. But still blunt enough to draw blood on his unscarred back. It makes him hiss and gasp, makes his eyes roll back into his head. He scratches right back, trailing red streaks through pale flesh. There’s a gasp above him, and a smirk passes over his face before he’s kissed and they fall backwards on the bed in a tangle of limbs and sweat.


	5. Exotic

**(Gaaraluver321)**

* * *

He’s always had an exotic body. Sweat stains his muscles after a workout. His nice tan that seems to grow darker the longer he stays in the sun. It is dreamy to look at, gets him hot. He bites his lip, hopes his nose doesn’t bleed as he watches from his perk by the galley. As the other makes his way up the crows nest, muscles bulging, he looks over his shoulder and smirks at him. He feels his heart stop and flutter in his chest. Exotic indeed. Like the drinks he makes for his ladies. Exotic like the sun, that shines on the open waters of the ocean, sparkling in blue. Reflecting in his eyes.


	6. Childhood

**(amphigurin)**

* * *

It was a subject they didn’t really talk about. Never wanted to talk about. It stains their hearts to talk about it. But it could be relief as well. Childhood, that is. It’s hard to talk about things you see as trauma. So he’s not told about the girl with the sword and he doesn’t tell about the family he never loved. A touchy subject it is. But when one of them is down, due to those pasts, the other will always come to comfort them. And it doesn’t matter how they do it, for the company is good enough for both of them.


	7. Grip

**(Discord Suggestion)**

* * *

His grip has always been so strong. On his swords, on himself. His grip on his sense, on his being. On his control and on his emotions. But one time, he lost that grip, and it made him show his emotions and lose his control. The surprise on the blonde’s face was hurtful, but the words he received in return healed him straight away. A smirk climbed up his face without his permission, and his grip returned, tenfold.


	8. Bite Mark

They litter his pale, flushed skin. He thinks they’re beautiful on him. They suit him. But, he hates them. He gets told of when he creates them, sucking on that pale skin and biting it gently. His hair gets tugged on, cries leave the blonde’s mouth. Afterwards, he gets bitched at, but he loves it either way. The next day is why it’s all worth it. He can always spot the marks _he_ made on the pale skin, just peeking out from his clothes.


	9. It Hurts

His hands hurt, his everything hurt. If his hands hurt, his soul will hurt. It is wrong. So, so wrong for his hands to hurt. And his other half knows this, therefor, his hands are kissed, licked, caressed. They are worshipped and loved. And he doesn’t hate it, but it’s not quite what he wanted. They hurt, but less every time. Nobody knows why.


	10. Red Snow

The snow is tainted. Tainted with the color red. It is leaking from his body. Green hair is stained with rust and the surrounding area smells of death and decay. The snow crunches under his feet, he kneels down. Hands on the body, tears leaking from his eyes. Is he still alive? Roll him over, see if he’s breathing. Is he? He is! Alive, safe, tainted with red. Proof of breath, proof of blood, proof of life.


	11. Fruit

It is fresh, fruity. Fruit is good, fruit is nice. Fruit can be sexual. He has a banana in his hand, grapefruit in the other. What the fuck is this situation and where the hell did his brain just go. No, don’t think about it. It’s food, don’t taint. He can’t. They still need to eat it. Stop it! Arms surround him and he startles, drops both of the goods. A chuckle is the only sound he hears before everything is heat and darkness. Fruit might also be a turn on for a certain swordsman.


	12. Metallic

**(Discord Suggestion)**

* * *

It is the smell that he cannot stand. It makes him remember the old days. He doesn’t like the old days, not anymore. Every time the scent hits him, it’s bittersweet nostalgia and memories of tongues on flesh and pleasure that has been taken out of his reach. He regrets it, somewhere deep inside him. And on the other side, he doesn’t. There hadn’t been any other way, leaving only regret and misery behind, along with two broken hearts. 


	13. Edelweiss

**(Discord Suggestion)**

* * *

It is the flowers he had not expected. Flowers like he had never seen before were standing on his mantel piece. In a high vase, blooming white and outside the snow is raging. Wind howls around the house, the door closes behind them. He turns to look at him, mouth open to say something. A smirk is all he gets, and he immediately rolls his eyes. The damn swordsman knew about his favorite winter flower after all.


	14. Why

Why. That is the word on his tongue, the word that he dreads. His hands clench around the other’s throat, angry tears burn behind his eyes. He screams the word at him, sees tears fall down the others cheek as those large calloused hands try to pry his from the other’s throat. There’s a gasped ‘I’m sorry,’ but he’s not satisfied with the answer. He lets go, hears the other gasp for air. He doesn’t look at the green haired man on the floor, gasping for breath with his hand around his raw throat, as he slams the door to his room closed, forever. 


	15. Break Me

**(Black_White_Gold)**

* * *

The punishment is what he needs, it’s what he wants. He wants to be spanked, chocked, bruised raw. He loves it. In his head he repeats; break me, bruise me, choke me, love me, punish me, make me yours. He repeats it to his lover as well. And receive he does, in more ways then he could imagine. His lover does everything he wants, and more. And everything that his brain repeats is; break me.


	16. Silver Rain

Silver rains down on him, like moonlight caught right out of the air. It’s beautiful, his blonde hair shining golden in the light of the moon. His blue eyes sparkle, and that smile on his face is enough to ignite certain sparks inside his stomach. The cigarette dangles between his lips, playfully. A smile curves on his lips, and he stretches out his hand, catching the other and pulling him close under silver rain falling from the sky.


	17. Full Moon

The moon shines down on green and blonde hair. A pair of hands is tangled together as they lay on the wooden planks. There’s a silence that is comfortable. The moon accompanies them on their journey, always there, always beautiful. Always strong and a presence one cannot forget. Like the two people on the deck, it fights it’s own battle, chooses it’s own path. The one which it deems the best.


	18. Song Bird

His voice is quiet, a low smokers rasp even when he hums a tune. The kitchen is filled with his voice and the quiet clinking of pots and pans, the chopping of his knife as he cooks. Grey eyes watch him, content with listening to his soft singing. Blue eyes flicker to meet those grey’s, and a small smile splays over those plump lips. The swordsman smirks, he is more than happy to listen to this particular song bird.


	19. Ink

There is a tattoo on his lower back. Has been there since he was little. It has faded a little, but it is still obvious what it is. Calloused hands trail over the two numbers, stroking the flesh gently, sending shivers up his spine. A kiss is pressed to his neck and a murmur of a word he cannot distinguish. It doesn’t matter what his lover has said, though, for it brings tears to his eyes that he doesn’t care about the tattoo. The two sixes on his back will never hurt him again, he won’t let them.


	20. Don't Leave

He shouts it, the green haired man just past the threshold. He is panting afterwards. Grey, wide eyes stare at him. A flush breaks over both their faces and cold wind wafts in from the open door. It’s slowly closed and a pair of arms wrap around his body, trembling as heavily as he is. He hugs back, doesn’t want to let go, not ever. The other buries his face in his shoulder and murmurs that he won’t leave, that he never will. A smile breaks out over his face and he can’t help but laugh. 


	21. No Please

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is dedicated to Callous Curiosity (@tendersadism on Twitter) for making such wonderful, but sad art about "the dead husbands earrings thing". 
> 
> You can find the art on their Twitter.

It could not be true. It could never be true. He lay there on the floor, blood soaked through his clothes, and there was no breath in his lungs. A pair of pale hands slammed against his chest over and over, caked with blood and grime. Blue eyes watered, screamed his name over and over, until there was nothing left. It was over. A hand reached for his, sad eyes beneath a straw hat looked at him. He refused to leave him here alone, he couldn’t. The pale hands grasped three earrings, held them to his chest before pricking them through his own ear, letting blood and tears flow alike.


	22. Lemon

It’s sour in his mouth, but he likes that about it. The cake isn’t sweet, has just the amount of sugar that he likes and it’s not too much for him. He gobbles it up in an instant, pushing his plate away and standing, not saying anything as he leaves. He can see the blonde haired bastard smirk from where he’s standing by the stove, squeezing another batch of lemon juice into a bowl.


	23. Ticklish

**(Chibi-chan321)**

* * *

Pale hands roam his exposed chest and he has to bite his tongue to keep from making a sound. The blonde knows very well that he is ticklish on his flanks. There are so little places on his body that can make him weak with laughter, but the blonde knows them all. A light touch on his side has him sucking in a breath, and a tongue plays with the golden droplets hanging from his left ear. Another touch to his side, and he cannot hold it anymore. He bursts with laughter, and a sexy smirk is all the warning he receives before he’s being kissed within an inch of his life. 


	24. Dirty Mouth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will be going until 40, that will be 2 x 20...
> 
> So yeah, I still have a few more of my own, but the rest will all come from you guys. I'm excited to see what you all come up with!
> 
> Author-chan

It’s the dirty talk that gets to him. The sweet, low baritone that whispers things to him he never dared to say to anyone. It riles him up, gets him hot. And his partner knows it all too well. And he uses it to his advantage, telling him how much he wants to do him right there on the kitchen table, or against the wall where everyone can see them. A flush creeps up his face and he lashes out, but he still has to hide the arousal stirring in his pants.


	25. Honey Bun

It’s a strange word, one that he’d only heard men say towards their lady. But now, there’s one lying on his plate. A honey bun. A bun filled with honey. He raises his brow, stares at the blonde in question. The smirk on his face says it all, and he has no choice but to eat the sweet treat laid out for him. How could he refuse when he has a second one waiting for him to finish the first, and that one has a lot more filling than the first.


	26. Hand, Foot

It is hand versus foot in any battle between them. One uses his legs, the other swords. Hand and foot, leg and sword. Both of them equal in strength, but it is never enough. They fight, they spar, they argue and bicker. But deep underneath it all lies something more, yet to be discovered, yet to be realized.


	27. Kiss Me

The words are just whispers, so breathy that he almost cannot hear them. But he does. And he aches for him, from deep within his chest, as if his heart is squeezed by his own hand and crushed. He surges forwards, catches the other man’s face in his hands and strokes blonde hair aside, revealing both ocean blue eyes. There’s nervousness there, but also want. And so, he complies, pressing his lips to plump, but chapped ones. Just like how he imagined them.


	28. Feathers

The soft trail of the feathers on his skin tickles, just a little. It feels good though, and he hums as the feather is dragged over his stomach, towards his chest. A pair of lips follow, and he cannot help but run his fingers through green hair. A dark, singular eye looks up at him and a smile stretches over that angular face. And then he’s laughing loudly as the feather is tickling his armpit, fighting back against strong hands that pin him down, but he never begs for mercy.


	29. Mirror

He hates the mirror. He hates it. He can see himself in it, and that is not even the worst part. What he sees is a starving young boy, in the middle of the ocean on his own, stranded on a rock high above the sea. He sees it every damn time. He sees floppy blond hair, pale blue eyes, a scruffy beard and a tired face with hollow cheeks. Then arms circle around him, a head presses into his back and all he sees is a grown man, handsome with laughter in his eyes. Blue eyes that sparkle like the ocean, a face full of a smile and a perfect beard. Behind him stands a brute, but just as handsome as he is, and it’s enough to erase the horrid image of the starving boy from his mind.


	30. Magic Hands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are the last two prompts I made myself. I'm counting on you guys to give me some to finish this story one and for all. I need nine, just nine more! 
> 
> Come on my people! Give me prompts! I know you can do it!

His hands are magic, pale and nimble and strong. They cook food with speed that would surprise a normal man, but it does not surprise him anymore. He watches as those hands work on the table top, on the stove and anywhere else there is food. But sometimes, those hands work on his body, and then they work magic. Magic that comes in the form of fingertips digging in knots in his back, magic that makes his sores go away, magic that makes him sleepy and makes him feel at home.


	31. Spice Rack

Whenever he smells spices, he feels right at home. But there is something special about his spice rack, made up from his friends and his love for cooking. Anywhere with a spice rack is a good kitchen, but his spice rack in his kitchen means home. When he smells the soap the girls use in the bathroom, when he smells the boys as they come into the kitchen for dinner, having rolled around in the grass, and when he smells steel, pressed to his back and arms wrapped around his middle. He’s at home.


	32. Wave

The waves that rock the ship are gentle. The arms that rock his body when he’s tired, sad or lifeless are the same. Gentle, strong, beautifully tan and scarred over. The ocean is like that too, has seen many battles in her life. Has taken more lives than those tan arms, but he doesn’t care. He loves them and he always will, rocking him to sleep with a sense of safety and a feeling of home.


	33. Bare

**(Goblingfrog)**

* * *

It’s something he doesn’t often see. Bare, pale shoulders, pale thighs in the sunlight, never getting any tanner. Sparkling almost translucent and so, so markable. He sees all of this under the cover of dark, most of the time. Feels that skin under his calloused palms, but almost never in the sunlight. It closes his throat, dries his mouth and he aches to run his hands up that smooth skin, aches to feel something else as well. But for now he’ll just watch, and enjoy the sun as it bounces of perfectly pale and unmarked skin.


	34. Future

**(Goblinfrog)**

* * *

He's never thought about his future with the one he loves. The blond always wanted to marry some girl and have a family. But together with him… he can’t give that to the cook. He can’t provide him with a family. He’s about to ask about it when he’s asked about it himself. He’s asked if he wants to share his future with the one he loves, and a furious blush overtakes his face as he nods slowly.


	35. Soul

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you Goblinfrog for giving me these three prompts! I quite enjoyed them. 
> 
> Prompts can be left in the comments down below. Thank you all for reading!
> 
> Author-chan

**(Goblinfrog)**

* * *

It’s like he can see into his soul. Something dark and vicious, hiding a sensible and gentle creature. Dark reds and blacks and vicious whites, concealing a gentle green and grey that makes his soul so much more interesting than the others on the ship. His soul hides things, and the cook cannot figure out how to get inside of him to get a taste of that sweetness he knows is there. If only there was some pink in there, then maybe he’d have a chance. What he doesn’t know is that beneath the green and grey, hides a tiny bit of pink that shies away from everything else to keep itself safe, walls up high and only crumbling with time dedicated to annoying the shit out of that particular cook.


	36. Hook

He has him on the hook, has always had him. From the moment they first met, from the moment they first argued. He’s always been his and never will he belong to anyone else ever again. Until that fateful day, the card, his name, protecting his family against those who would do them harm, and leaving the one he loves the most. When, if, he comes back, will he be forgiven?


End file.
